Hayes (A Carolina Cyclones Story)

12.

Maggie

"Okay, Rach, how do I look?" I step from the bathroom where I've just spent the better part of two hours trying to make myself believe that I can emulate someone who belongs on a real live date with a real live hockey player.

It's not in my nature to be nervous about this kind of thing but tonight I am. My palms are embarrassingly sweaty as I smooth them over my dress. It's black with spaghetti straps and done in  a silky material. It's form fitting with a neckline that drapes elegantly over my bust and reveals what I hope is a tasteful amount of cleavage.

"Yeah, I don't know if you guys are going to make it to dinner with you looking like that." Rach says with a small smile as she grabs a snack from the refrigerator.

The sound of a knock on the door interrupts my response to her. My stomach drops and I shake my hands hoping to shake off my nerves. Rachel's eyes meet mine and she seems to sense that I need a minute so she heads for the door, swinging it open with a smile.

"Hey, Hayes! How are you?"

"Hi! Is Maggie here?"

I stay frozen in place as Rachel allows him in and I turn away from the door to grab my bag. When I turn back around my breath catches in my throat. Hayes is always attractive. But tonight, tonight just the sight of him has my lady parts clenching and my pulse quickening. He's got the longer pieces of his hair slicked back though one piece towards the front has broken the hold and flops over his forehead in a way that somehow seems purposeful and perfect. He wears khaki colored slacks and a dark green three quarter sleeve button down with the top few buttons open leaving bits of his collar bone exposed and kissable. Damn.

"You look great." There's a timber to his voice that makes me think Hayes might be affected similarly which helps to ease my worries slightly.

"Thanks, you too!"

"You ready?" He asks, extending his hand to me and I take it with a nod, giving a little wave to Rachel as we head for the door and to whatever awaits for us.

•

"So, tell me something I don't know about you."

Hayes and I are seated on the waterfront balcony of a local seafood spot and I'm halfway through one of the best crab cakes I've ever had. The drive here from my place was a little awkward but once both of our jitters wore off we settled into comfortable conversation.

I think for a moment. There's a lot of things I could still tell him about me but the tone for tonight is light and I want to keep it that way. "You know that show, 'Undressed in the Wilderness?'"

His eyes narrow and he chews slowly on a bit of his shrimp as he nods, clearly confused on where I'm going with this.

"I competed on it a few years ago."

"No way." His eyes widen, eyebrows raising in surprise. "You don't strike me as a survival girl?"

"Believe it or not, under this clearly high maintenance exterior is a survivalist." I laugh.

"So you made it the whole time? Just out there with literally nothing. Holy shit." He sits back in his seat, lifting his glass of ice water to his lips and taking a slow sip as he eyes me with an impressed expression.

"It was just an amateur challenge so it was only two weeks in South America and they gave us a pot and a fire starter so we had a few basics. We did okay, I ate some bugs, some bugs ate me. The worst part was my partner left on day twelve with an infection, so then I had to finish alone which was the worst part. I didn't really sleep those last two nights."

"I'm just still trying to comprehend that you did this. I'd like to think I'm a badass but I wouldn't have lasted a day."

A cool breeze blows across the marsh and I shiver involuntarily. I don't think anything of it but in the blink of an eye, Hayes unbuttons his shirt to reveal a white tee beneath it, sliding the button down from his shoulders he takes two quick strides around the table, placing the shirt over my shoulders and I bite back a grateful grin as he returns to his place.

"That was sweet, thank you." He only tilts his head in silent acknowledgement. "As for the show, I don't know. I think humans in general are a lot more resilient than we believe we are. That's part of why I wanted to do it in the first place. When I finished college I was a little lost. That's on me. I picked the art degree and I knew what that might mean career wise. One thing I've struggled with in the past is just being a bit too trusting. I like to view the world through rose-tinted glasses and that's bit me in the ass before. I guess I just thought when I finished my degree opportunities would just fall into my lap and when that didn't happen right away I got frustrated. The show was a pilgrimage to self discovery of sorts. Because like, once I'd survived that, I felt invincible. I came home and got after it. I worked relentlessly until I landed a few commissions that got in the right hands and led to a few more work leads and now I've built my way up to a pretty consistent workload."

"And now you've got this huge job with the Cyclones."

"Exactly." I smile. "So what about you, what's something I don't know about you?"

"Oh, geez." He groans. "I guess I kinda backed myself into that corner huh?"

"Uh, yeah! You gotta be able to take what you dish out." I tease him.

He's quiet for a minute and I begin to sense his discomfort. "Hey..." I reach across the table and gently set my fingers on top of his. At just the briefest hunt of connection a zing of electricity courses through me. Undeniable connection. Just like there has been all along. "You don't have to answer."

He chuckles lightly and clears his throat. "No, no. You're right. You shared, I owe it to you to do the same. I'm just not naturally a very—open, i guess?—person."

I nod, trying to understand and be sympathetic that talking about himself isn't the easiest for him.

"Something no one really knows about me is I like to count things."

I can't control my facial expression. It takes me a moment to school it and by then Hayes looks like he regrets letting anything slip past his lips.

He sighs. "When I get nervous, it's just what I do. My brain never shuts off. I don't know if it's ADD or ADHD or maybe I'm just crazy. I've never talked to anyone about it. But when my life feels like it's spinning out of control I concentrate on mundane things and count them and it makes me feel better."

He's tense. Clearly not wanting to share anymore about it.

"I bet your life feels kind of out of control a lot huh?" I ask, trying to gently steer the topic back to something I know he's comfortable with: hockey.

"Yeah, it can be. Our season is long and intense. The past few years we've had a lot of expectations set on us and we haven't been able to bring home the cup and live up to those expectations yet which can be frustrating."

I lean in slightly. "But surely you realize that you can't single handedly bring home the cup."

"That's true. But I'm the captain. I feel like it rests on my shoulders and..." he lets his words trail off his gaze leaving my eyes and instead drifting off to the side to focus on the brackish water of the marsh and the gentle green grass that swats with the breeze. "And lately I worry more and more that I'm not worthy of that title."